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Flesh Trade

When Earth is destroyed in a cataclysmic event known as ‘The Reckoning’, all remaining species relocate and begin to populate the planet Eden. The war that raged between humans and the supernatural on Earth continues, but the hierarchy has shifted.

Mortis is an ancient demon, a hunter of hunters, and he roams the ravaged landscape as a hired gun. With his latest mission completed, he heads to Spring Water to collect his bounty. Once there, Blood Moon–the top Ork military commander–asks Mortis to investigate the murder of a visiting dignitary in the nearby outpost Posideon. With a promised payout four times more than his going rate, Mortis accepts and begins the trek.

A loner, Mortis’ plans are suddenly altered when a succubus joins him and the pair head to Posideon together. His travel companion, Synclair, is as unpredictable and mysterious as the terrain, but they are inexplicably drawn to one another. Deep undercover in debauchery, Mortis and Synclair find themselves thrust into a realm of slavery where the flesh traders rule.

As Mortis peels back the layers of deceit in search of a killer, what he finds may prove fatal. Not only to himself, but to thousands of others, too.

It was within the recently raided Ork town of New New Rockford, a mining town nestled deep in the southern mountain ranges of sector three, a heavily Ork populated sector used mainly for trade and PMC cadet survival training, that the protagonist Mortis could be found – an ancient pure-blood demon from one of the anarchy realms located somewhere between the seventh and ninth circles of hell from old Earth. By his very trait and trade he was unique, as was the path he had chosen to walk across Eden. He was a hunter of hunters. He was the one that was called in when a caravan had been ransacked or a village had been massacred to hunt down and eliminate the elite of human demon-hunters – men and women who received superior training and equipment to be used solely to kill all types of demons, freaks and supernaturals they could find. Mortis was the force that hunted them, that took the fight to them and cut them down when the Orks and other species failed. He was a champion to some and a sort of anti-hero to others. As with every service, there was a price tag – with every clip he slid into place, every round he racked into the chamber, every drop of blood spilled and every virgin saved. There was a price, a favour or a resource that would be asked for … no … expected. Nothing came free. As long as fair agreement was made at the start of each contract and upheld at the end, there would be no issue.